


6. Obsession

by Iolre



Series: 100 Themes Challenge [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 07:19:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iolre/pseuds/Iolre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Sherlock is bothering Lestrade about a case, John finds himself the subject of some not-so-friendly ribbing from Sally and the others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	6. Obsession

“How’s the Freak?” John looked over to see Sally Donovan standing leaning against a counter, a mug of tea in her hands.

“He’s fine, thank you.” John forced himself to smile briefly before his gaze flittered back to the office in which Sherlock stood. He was arguing with Lestrade. John could see the long, pale hands flying through the air as Sherlock gestured emphatically.

“Just fine?” Sally raised her eyebrows. John grimaced inwardly, trying to plaster the fake smile on his face. “What, you two have a row?”

“No, of course not,” John said automatically, trying not to think of the argument they had gotten into over breakfast. It had taken quite a bit of willpower for John to agree to come to Lestrade’s office. He would have much rather stayed at home and avoided Sherlock for the rest of the day. “Why do you ask?”

A slight smirk played about Sally’s lips and John cursed inside. “Well, on average, you mention him fifty seven times when you’re in this office.”

“No I don’t.” John narrowed his eyes at the curly-haired woman, arms crossed defensively over his chest. He had worn a particularly colorful jumper today. It had been a gift from one of his last girlfriends, a fact Sherlock had made fun of mercilessly. He wasn’t quite sure what possessed him to wear it. Possibly stubbornness.

“Yes you do. What did you have for breakfast?” John blinked, a bit thrown off, but game nonetheless.

“I scrambled some eggs and made some porridge, but Sherlock - oh.” John’s voice trailed off, having realized Sally was right. “Fifty seven times, eh?” he asked.

“It’s more closer to the weekends,” a brown-haired male detective added from next to Sally.

“Yes, that’s closer to a hundred,” another one said. This one was blonde, with long curly hair, and female. John just glared at them. Blonde-hair smirked and turned back to her work.

“So what’s it like, living with him?” Sally leaned back against the counter, sipping her tea.

“Living with Sherlock?” John asked, his brain running a bit behind.

“No,” Sally drawled, “Living with the president.”

“It’s not bad,” John said, determinedly cheerful. The voices from Lestrade’s office continued to escalate, and John winced. “He can be stubborn sometimes.”

“So that’s what they’re calling it, now,” Sally said, her voice amused.

“What?” John spluttered, almost choking on his tongue.

“Oh come on, we all know you’re together.” Sally rolled her eyes, drinking the last dregs of her tea.

“I’m not gay,” John replied automatically, blinking a bit. The door to Lestrade’s office opened and Sherlock strode out.

“We’re done,” Sherlock said, not pausing as he walked by John.

John tipped his head towards Sally and the amused police officers. “See you later.”

“Go and have a nice snog,” Sally advised, her grin wicked. “Might up his mood. And other things.”

John turned on his heels and walked rapidly out of the police station after Sherlock. If he was lucky, the taller man had been out of earshot the entire time. Sherlock’s hearing was nearly as acute as his mind, although he didn’t process colloquialisms quite as well. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice the faint blush on John’s cheeks from Sally’s ridiculous words.

Ridiculous. John shook his head as he got into the cab with Sherlock, the blush deepening just a bit as he accidentally brushed against Sherlock’s arm. What had gotten into him? “John?” John nearly jumped out of his skin at Sherlock’s voice.

“Yes?” John responded, his voice more breathy than he preferred. Breathing was a priority right now.

“Are you alright?” Sherlock’s ice-blue eyes were sharp and John tensed a bit.

“Yes, of course.” John crossed his arms over his chest. Sherlock looked at him as if he wanted to say something, but didn’t. The rest of the car ride passed in silence. The two men got out of the cab (John last, of course, to pay the cab driver) and walked into their flat. Sherlock went straight to his room. John sighed and sunk down into the chair.

Did he really think that much about Sherlock? He was so used to Sherlock being right about statistics that he hadn’t even questioned Sally’s count. Tallying up how many times he had thought about something involving Sherlock so far that day, he realized it likely wasn’t too far off from the actual total. It was a depressing thought.

Friends, he thought. They were friends. John was Sherlock’s only friend. Sherlock needed him. How much John needed Sherlock was a question he was not ready to ask himself.

Sighing, John got up and made two cups of tea. Leaving one on the counter, he walked over to Sherlock’s room and knocked on the door . It opened with a creaking noise, and John made a mental note to look into it. It may not bother Sherlock, but it was annoying enough that John wanted to fix it before it bothered Mrs. Hudson or himself. “Tea?”

“Put it over there.” Sherlock gestured aimlessly to the table, his violin in his hands. John did so, pausing to watch him for a couple seconds as Sherlock noted down some music notes on the sheets in front of him. Watching for a couple moments longer, John noted that Sherlock made no eye contact and made a point of not looking at him. So it was that kind of mood, then.

John walked back to the kitchen and sipped his cooling cup of tea. Life with Sherlock was never boring. It did come with questions he did not want to deal with. Those questions, however, could always be put off. He didn’t need to deal with them now.

Feelings complicated things, and things were complicated enough. John sipped his tea with a smile. Yes, putting things off was truly the right decision.


End file.
